


Breezy

by Traxits



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Community: newgameplus, M/M, One Shot, Slice of Life, word count: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-23
Updated: 2010-10-23
Packaged: 2017-10-12 20:18:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/128642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traxits/pseuds/Traxits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Always have been good with your hands," the cowboy purred, and Zell couldn't stop himself from jerking back up and punching him in the shoulder. Irvine didn't flinch though; he never did. His grin just widened. "And hot under the collar. You sweating in all that?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breezy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nan/gifts).



He enjoyed working with his hands, and he probably would have ended up helping out, even if Selphie _hadn't_ decided to hold his t-board hostage. He still wasn't entirely sure how she had gotten her hands on it, but when he was working, sparks flying all around him, he found that he didn't really care. Everything just sort of fell away, leaving him to focus only on the project at hand: welding the pipes together for the canopy over the stage.

"Hey! Hey, Dincht!"

Zell switched off the power supply for the electrode he held and pulled off his helmet. "What?" He reached up with one hand to rub at his eyes, blinking away the dark spots that came from staring too long at the welding surface. Even through the dark glass of the visor, he felt as though he'd been staring at the sun. For a heartbeat, the approaching figure was simply a discolored shape, then slowly, it sharpened until he could make out the cowboy hat.

He groaned.

"What do you want, Irvine?" He secured the electrode, and then he pulled off his heavy leather gloves. He shoved them into his back pocket and opened up his welding jacket. He'd never admit it, but he was grateful for the distraction. He hadn't realized just how _hot_ it was with all the safety gear on. "What are you even-"

"You really gonna put the platform there?" Irvine raised an eyebrow as he looked behind Zell toward the stage. He shoved his thumbs into the belt loops on his jeans, and Zell found himself twisting around to see just what Irvine was inspecting so intently.

He shrugged, reaching up to brush his hair out of his face- no gel today; nothing that flammable while he was welding. "Going by the plans Selphie gave me." He frowned at his hair, still hanging in front of his eyes, and then looked over at Irvine. "Why? Where did you think it was going?"

Irvine frowned just a bit, and then he walked over to the stage and hoisted himself up. "I thought it'd look more like the stage in FH. … Remember that?"

"Well yeah. Selphie didn't like that one though." Zell scratched lightly at his forehead with his thumbnail, trying to figure out Irvine's game. The cowboy was wandering over the stage, reaching and _touching_ everything that he could. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in Galbadia anyway."

"Nah. Selphie asked me to secure some entertainment. Wants a live band, you know?" He pushed the hat up a fraction. "I thought I'd check out the stage before I made any decisions."

"She dragged you back to Balamb just so that you could help her with the Garden Festival?" Zell sighed, shook his head, and zipped his jacket back up. "That's sad, man. You chase that skirt a little too hard." He didn't add that he thought Irvine and Selphie had broken up weeks before Irvine had left.

Irvine glanced back at him, and a grin curved his lips. It was unnerving, being on the receiving end that particular grin; Irvine looked like he knew something that Zell didn't. "You think so? I was coming back anyway."

Zell tugged his gloves back on, pointedly looking back toward his welding work. "Tourist."

Irvine laughed at him and slid down off of the stage. Zell felt his breath catch in his throat when Irvine leaned over him to look down at the seam he had been working on. "Always have been good with your hands," the cowboy purred, and Zell couldn't stop himself from jerking back up and punching him in the shoulder. Irvine didn't flinch though; he never did. His grin just widened. "And hot under the collar. You sweating in all that?"

Snorting, Zell waved him away. "Shoo. I'll see you later. Got real work to do." He pulled his helmet back on, and he gave Irvine a twenty-second head start before he started welding again. It was soothing work, no matter how hot it was, and Zell was grateful for it. He needed something else to focus on.

By the time the stage was built, Zell was dripping in sweat, and he had been completely unnerved by the fact that Irvine didn't actually leave. He just hung around the edge of the building area, helping where he could and tuning some guitar when he wasn't needed. Zell left his safety gear in the bin set up just for that, and he stared, wide-eyed when Irvine held out a box to him.

Irvine had managed to knock him off of his game ever since they had first met, and the worst part of it was the simple fact that Irvine didn't even seem to realize it. He just flitted about, flirting with everything that breathed, acting as though nothing mattered. Except...

Except those moments where everything grew serious. Moments like this, with Irvine holding out a lunch box, wind blowing his hair across his face, his hat pulled down low over his face, those moments it seemed like he was a different person. In those moments, Zell felt like he was falling, felt like the cowboy had some hold over him that no one else could compete with.

He plopped down on the ground just beside Irvine's seat, took the box gratefully, and felt a smile play over his mouth when he clicked it open. Hotdog, complete with the Balamb cafeteria wrapper. He reached up and rubbed the bridge of his nose for just a heartbeat- something he'd picked up from Squall, surely- and then he glanced up at Irvine.

"Thanks, man," he murmured.

Irvine leaned down close to him, and Zell couldn't breathe with him right _there_. He pushed a hand into Zell's blond hair. His thumb brushed over the side of Zell's face, and Zell swallowed thickly.

"Selphie-"

"Didn't come back for Selphie," Irvine whispered, and Zell's eyes widened.

"O-oh." Somehow it was all he could think of to say, and Irvine's mouth quirked into a little grin. Then Zell felt Irvine pulling him a fraction closer, could feel the cowboy's breath over his own lips. He froze for only a second more, then he couldn't stand it. He finishing closing the distance, kissing Irvine a little more roughly than he thought he would.

When they finally drew apart, Irvine grinned again. Zell felt heat in his face, but he couldn't tell if he was blushing or simply flushed from the day's work. Irvine pushed the lunchbox at him again, leaning back as he studied Zell. "You owe me a dance at the festival," he finally said.

"What?"

"I want a dance. Then we'll see where this goes."

Zell smiled just a little before he chewed on a french fry. Typical Irvine, going with the breeze like that. A hand rubbed lightly over the back of Zell's neck though, and Zell found himself leaning against one of those long legs. Maybe this time he'd go with it. See where it went.


End file.
